


Helhounds: Genesis

by EmmiBee



Series: Helhounds [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 08:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14733584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmiBee/pseuds/EmmiBee
Summary: Dr. Strange invites his young apprentice to ask him any question at all. When she asks him to tell her about her parents, he's taken aback (and a bit disappointed), but he does his best to fulfill her request.However, every story has many sides, and not all of those sides are as simple as the others.





	Helhounds: Genesis

_"What's the last thing you remember?"_

Darkness. Pain… too much pain.

_"What else?"_

A bridge. It's barely there... but more solid than anything I've ever felt.

The passage between life and death.

_"And where were you?"_

On the bridge. Walking toward Hel… the land of the dead.

_"Were you afraid?"_

Yes. At first. The closer I got, the less afraid I was. But then I got pulled back, and I was afraid again.

_"When we saved you?"_

Yes. Both of you.

_"Are you still afraid?"_

Sometimes. Sometimes, when I'm asleep, I see that I'm still on the bridge. But I'm not walking anywhere. I'm just standing, right in the middle. Spirits try to grab me as they pass, but their hands pass through me. Some of them are calm and walk across on their own, but more look like they're being dragged. They scream. They always scream.

_"All right. You don't have to say any more."_

I can still hear them. They're in agony. They don't want to go.

_"That's enough for now. Come back."_

They're still trying to pull me with them… sometimes I think I can feel their hands on my ankles. If I stumble, even a little—

"I said that's enough!"

 

Helen's eyes snap open. She gasps for air.

Cold, trembling hands hold the sides of her face, as her mentor and guardian kneels before her chair. His eyebrows are knit, and he searches her face with a frown twisting his mouth.

"Are you all right?" he says softly as her eyes focus on him.

"I…" Helen shakes her head slightly. "I don't… I mean, I think so."

His unsteady fingers lightly probe the young girl's temples. "You went too far, too fast. I told you to be careful."

"Yes sir. I'm sorry, sir."

An acknowledging _hm_ passes from his nose. He stands, a billowing red cape floating to settle on his shoulders. "It's almost teatime. Once you catch your breath, go clean up and join me in the sitting room. I want to show you something."

The girl sighs in relief despite herself. "Yes, Doctor."

Her master barely acknowledges her as he leaves, but such is the way of their relationship. Helen doesn't need nor desire constant validation. If she wants to be commended, she must do something worth commending.

That's what her mother taught her, anyhow.

She runs to her room, her simple canvas shoes slapping on the polished floors. She passes by hundreds of priceless artifacts. Some are just pretty, but most are incredibly powerful.

She's not allowed to touch, but she looks at them quite a lot. Someday, she'll wield one. She's been growing her skills in the mystic arts every day. None of the artifacts have chosen her yet, but she feels it will be soon. She's worked hard to get to this point.

_I wonder if he'd be proud of me_.

Helen freezes in front of the sink, water dripping from her hands and face.

Slowly, she looks up at the mirror.

Her jet black hair is tied tightly back into a thick braid, but the frizzy curls at her hairline refuse to be tamed. Her skin, not as dark as her mother's, but still a far cry from the almost vampiric paleness of her father's.

Her eyes, though. A shade of green that gives away her parentage everytime.

For most of her childhood, she didn't give it a second thought. Growing up, her only constant company was her twin sister and their mother, and occasionally her father, so there was no-one to tease or point out their differences. She never stopped to think about why her mother and father acted and spoke so different from each other, or why her father wasn't around very often, until she was older.

And by then, Jorma was asking questions, and look where that got her.

Helen dries her face and hands and pats down her hair, then dashes to the sitting room.

Dr. Stephen Strange is sitting in his usual chair, reading a book suspended in midair as he sips a cup of tea. Helen stops in the doorway, waits until he raises an eyebrow at her, then bows.

“Sit down, Helen,” the doctor says, with his usual begrudging sigh.

“Yes, sir.” She darts to her own designated chair and plops down in it, placing her hands on her knees expectantly.

The book in front of Strange snaps shut on its bookmark. "Today, Helen, is your fourteenth birthday."

The girl's eyes light up. "Yes, sir."

He raises an eyebrow. "Did you think I'd forgotten?"

"No, si—" She halts, and bites her lip. "Yes, sir."

"Mh." He watches Helen startle and nearly drop the cup of tea that appears in her hands. "You've changed a lot, haven't you?"

"I hope so, sir."

The Doctor stands and paces to a large window, his cape billowing behind him despite the slightly stale air. Helen twists in her seat to watch him.

"Traditionally, sorcerers spend their birthdays in quiet reflection," Strange says, folding his hands behind his back. "They examine their strengths, their weaknesses, what they have accomplished and what they have failed. It can be a time of turmoil, but also of restoration."

Helen stays quiet, biting back a small whimper of disappointment.

"However." The sorcerer shifts to glance at her. "It is also nearly a year to the day that you were brought to my doorstep for an apprenticeship. So, I was thinking… maybe that warrants something a little more special."

Helen perks up. Strange strides back to his chair, sits down, and crosses his legs and arms simultaneously. "As Sorcerer Supreme and Master of the Mystic Arts, as well being in possession of a severely above-average intellect and many expansive libraries, I have access to more information than anyone in the world. For your fourteenth birthday, you may ask me… _anything_. No question is forbidden and you may ask as many questions as you like until the sun sets. If I am in possession of that information, and it is safe for you to know, I will tell you anything."

Helen says nothing. Her jaw hangs slightly ajar as she stares at the sorcerer.

Strange nods. "I understand if you need to take a while, think about what you want to—"

"I want to know about my parents!" Helen blurts.

They both blink.

"...Sir," she adds weakly.

"You could ask me anything. Anything at all. The secrets of the universe, the formation of the stars…" He presses one finger to his lips, then points it at his apprentice. "And you want to know the tragedy/comedy trainwreck that consists of your parents' escapades."

She beams.

He sighs.

A plate of biscuits and other pastries appear on the table. Helen's chair turns into a sofa, and she falls back in surprise, barely keeping her teacup upright. Dr. Strange folds his arms and closes his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

"Get comfortable, then. This is going to take a while."


End file.
